The Care and Keeping of Humanoid Saplings
by Spiritus Scriptor
Summary: Post-movie scenes of Star Lord and Company learning the ins and outs of caring for Groot while he grows up. Baby sentient tree-creatures aren't your average houseplant, after all. They need love and attention, too.
1. Alone in the Dark

**Hey there!**

**I finally saw this movie (after being convinced that I need to have fun more often) after not wanting to because I'm not usually interested in superhero movies. Part of the conversation leading up to this was as follows:**

**Friend: It's not your typical superhero movie with *'SPLOSIONS* and shit. It has heart. **

**Me: It sounds like it's about a bunch of losers in space. **

**YES. THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT THIS MOVIE IS ABOUT. THEY LITERALLY SAY THEY'RE LOSERS.**

**And at the end I was all, "DANCING BABY GROOT!" :)**

**-ahem- anyway...**

**I write fluff. Lots of fluff. The two things I'm known for writing is fluff and tragedy (odd combination, I know.)**

**So get ready for little bits and snippets of baby Groot fluff as our heroic crew tries to figure out what to do with him while he's still stranded in a pot. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, not _nothing._ Just nothing owned by Marvel. **

* * *

Peter Quill awoke to a strange sound—a shrill, shrieking noise that echoed eerily through the ship. Groggily he sat up—his companions were still asleep, he noticed—and made his way up to the deck and the source of the sound. It was coming from the back somewhere, that much was certain. Stumbling around in the dark wasn't helping, so he turned on the light.

There, on a table in the very back of the deck space, bathed in the light of nebulous clouds, was a very distressed little Groot. Restrained to his pot, he had been forgotten when the crew of the _Milano _turned in for the night. Peter was surprised—how could any of them, especially Rocket, have forgotten he was still up here? But that didn't matter now. Every few seconds Groot would throw his tiny head back and wail. _Poor little guy,_ thought Peter.

"Hey, buddy." he spoke softly as he climbed behind the backseat. "Sorry we left you all alone."

"_I am Groot!_" wailed Groot in a tiny voice.

"Yeah, I know you're scared." Peter replied, sitting down at the table. He extended a finger and patted Groot on the head gently. Groot's response was to wrap his twig-like arms around Peter's finger and hug it to him. He could feel the tiny tree-creature still trembling with fear. Groot was still Groot, but he was also now a baby. Or a seedling, or—whatever he was, he now had the mannerisms of a child. The crew would have to be more careful with him from now on, until he grew back. Peter pondered over just how long a humanoid tree took to grow as he sat there letting Groot hug his finger and make happy noises.

At long last, the sentient twig made a sighing noise and let go of his security digit in order to yawn and stretch.

"Tired, huh?" Peter yawned in reply. "Me too. Let's go downstairs."

The sapling blinked and nodded, and, understanding that it was time to sleep now, folded his arms and lowered his head so that he looked like an ordinary stick in a pot. Carefully, Quill picked him up and carried him below, setting him on a shelf near where Rocket was sleeping. Then, as an afterthought, he rummaged through the shelves by his tape deck until he found something—a tiny, fuzzy plastic teddy bear, one of those things you'd get from a gumball machine back on Earth. He brought it back over to the shelf where Groot was sleeping and tapped him on the head.

"Hey, Groot!" he whispered, just loud enough to wake him up. "Here ya go."

Groot looked up at the tiny teddy bear in Peter's outstretched hand, and reached out to take it, smiling.

"I am Groot," he thanked him sleepily as he cuddled it and closed his eyes.

"Maybe one of these days we'll teach you to say something else," Peter smirked as he turned towards his bed. "G'night, twiglet."

"I am…" Groot began, but before he could finish, he fell asleep.

* * *

**D'aww. Picture that, if you will. **

**There shall be more upcoming snippets, I assure you. Also, I take suggestions. PM me with a scenario you'd like to see, and I'll try to write and post it in my precious little spare time. **

**Oh, and please review!**

**Regards, **

**Spiritus Scriptor. **


	2. Thirst

**I'm baaaaaack!**

**Glad I could make you all so happy with the last chapter of cuteness. Just to clarify, these chapters will all be in random order. There isn't much of a plot. I'm just giving you the opportunity to squee your little hearts out. **

**As we all know, there are many dangers for a little self-aware tree to face. Here is one of them. **

* * *

The crew had been busy trying to live up to their rather unfortunate but apt title of Guardians of the galaxy (Peter still mentally cursing at Ronan every time it came up) and being good little outlaws who'd recently had their criminal records wiped clean, and for the most part they were doing well and had been able to keep their noses out of trouble.

But there was one member of their band of merry misfits who was left out. Groot, no longer the muscle, was still largely forgotten about. Sure, they kept him company when they had time, but they had informed him that he'd be spending a lot of time on his own, as he couldn't join them on their "adventures" until he was big enough.

He seemed to understand and got along just fine most of the time. Peter had given him his collection of weird little toys from Earth, and Groot busied himself with investigating them whenever his friends were off playing space cops-or rather, vigilantes. In their downtime the crew visited with him and tried to teach him at least a few new words. So far, not many had stuck.

They had been away from the ship for quite some time now, Groot knew. Days, maybe. And he was left sitting on the back table on deck, surrounded by the weird objects Peter had given him. But he couldn't keep his mind on anything other than the fact that he was _so thirsty_. The spouty water-holder that Rocket watered him with was on the other end of the table. He hadn't watered him since they'd left. He couldn't remember how long it had been. His friends were busy, and he was helplessly stranded in this pot. Maybe he should try making more noise to let them know he was still here…

For now, he just had one goal: get to the water container. He had no idea how he'd get the water out, but he would figure that out when he got there. With all his strength, he tried to move forward, but he was anchored in heavy dirt and rocks in a heavy pot. He tried again, and he pulled himself forward until he felt like he would break his roots.

_Skreeeeee…_To his satisfaction, the pot moved a little. Not much, but a little. And so in this manner, minute by minute, hour by hour, he slowly propelled himself forward towards the water thing. He was a little more than halfway there when the nearness of his objective gave him an extra kick of strength, he gave an extra-hard pull, and…

And down came baby tree, pot and all. The pebbles and a loose layer of soil spilled out onto the table, and suddenly his prison was a whole lot…_lighter_. And he began to roll. First he saw the ceiling, then the table, then the ceiling again as he screamed in fear. But no one was here to help him, and if he fell, the only thing keeping him alive right now would be smashed to bits and he would die. Just when he thought he would topple off the edge and meet his doom, his rolling prison stopped. Groot, absolutely rigid with fright, was stuck facing the opposite direction. He didn't know how close he was to falling…all he saw was the clouds and sky of Xandar, where the ship was docked.

Finally, _finally_ he heard a door open. His friends were back! They were talking and laughing about their misadventures…they probably wouldn't hear him if he was back to his full size at this rate. But he had to try. And so, with all his might, he let out a screech. And that tiny amount of movement was enough to send him rolling over the edge.

But before he hit, a strong pair of blue hands caught him and set him upright on the table, scooping the dirt and pebbles back in.

"Is he all right?" Rocket asked, immediately behind his rescuer.

"He is," Drax concluded. "But he needs water. His soil is very dry."

"I am Groot!" Groot agreed, pointing at the watering can.

"Well, why didn't you say so, you idiot?" Rocket asked, reaching for it.

"Do not call him an idiot," Drax warned menacingly. "He saved us all, do you not remember?"

"I meant it _lovingly,_" Rocket argued, pouring water onto the parched soil. Almost instantly, it was absorbed and Groot burst into a bloom of leaves and tiny flowers.

"I am Groot!" he chirped happily, raising his arms to show off his new foliage.

"Aww, will you look at that?" Rocket smiled. "All better."

* * *

**Heehee...little Groot covered in leaves. I imagine he'd be quite proud of himself. **

**Review, por favor!**


	3. Groot Learns a New Word

**Hellooooo...**

**The author of this story wishes to apologize for the subject matter of this snippet. The author has no filter and a lowbrow sense of humor and therefore finds it funny. **

**I don't usually censor stuff in my stories, but I added grawlixes (?) here because I was picturing this in comic book form for some weird reason. **

* * *

"C'mon, Groot. Say 'hello'," urged Rocket, who'd undertaken the task of teaching Groot to speak.

"I am Groot!"

"No, _hello!"_

"I…am….Grooooooooot!" Groot squeaked at the top of his lungs.

"Oh, forget it!" Rocket sighed, exasperated. "That's all you're ever going to say, isn't it?"

Peter, who had been listening to this maddening exchange for over an hour, turned Awesome Mix Vol. 2 on full blast, and groaned. "Give it a rest, Rocky. Who cares if he ever learns to talk?"

Rocket bared his teeth. "One, don't call me Rocky, and two, _I _do! This time around, he's not gonna be some dumb tree! Literally!"

"Fine. Whatever. He's your pet."

"He's not my _pet_, he's a future killing machine!" the cybernetically-enhanced vermin argued. "Oh, and while we're at it, would you turn off that stupid music? You're making our ears bleed!"

Groot, who heartily disagreed, timidly began to dance along with the music. He couldn't help it. It made him happy.

"Not all of us hate it, apparently." Peter smiled. "Isn't that just adorable?"

"Wha…" Rocket turned to look at his 'pet' sapling. "What the f %*?!" he exclaimed. "Groot, stop that! Right now!"

Groot immediately stopped and looked at his friend, confused. "F %*?" he asked. Peter snorted into his hand. "F %*!" he cried. Then he began to sing a little song. It went something like, "F %* f &amp;* f #%&amp;* #%*%! F %* f %* f #%*&amp;# !"

"Well, he learned that word." Peter chortled.

"Yeah. Great."

Just then, Gamora poked her head through the hatch. "_What_ is going _on_ down there?"

"Tell her your new word, Groot." urged the ever-mischievous Star Lord.

"F %&amp;*!" Groot announced proudly.

Gamora rolled her eyes. "Oh, that's _fantastic_. Who's teaching him to swear?"

"Rocket."

"I am _not_!"

"Well, who let the colorful phrase slip, huh?"

"Who's encouraging him?"

"Who's the one claiming that little _thing…_"—Peter pointed to the now thoroughly-confused twig—"is a killing machine?"

"_Future_ killing machine." Rocket corrected. "And what the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, I just think it's funny."

"Yeah, I bet you do."

Peter and Rocket stared at each other for a long minute, eyes narrowed in enmity.

"Hey, Groot…" Peter wondered at last. "Can you say, 'bleep'?"

"F %&amp;*!" said Groot.

"I guess not."

* * *

**I have one more snippet idea of my own, and then I think I will have to start relying on suggestions to keep this little brainchild going. I have one already, but please PM me with any funny/weird/cute scenarios you'd like to see our favorite little twiglet in!**

**And as always, please review!**


	4. Under the Weather

**This will probably be the last snippet I'll post for awhile. At least, I probably won't be updating every day. Homework calls. **

**I figured I'd leave off with a longer chapter. It's not as cute, but oh, well. I tried. **

* * *

Groot was sick. Almost overnight he had shriveled to half his normal size and his thin bark was peeling, exposing dry wood underneath. The Guardians didn't know what to do. None of them were experienced with plant ailments.

"Oh, buddy, you don't look good," Rocket said, trying to pat Groot gently on the head, but the little tree flinched away from his touch. He was almost completely doubled over as if he didn't have the strength to hold himself up.

"Maybe you're not giving him enough water," suggested Peter.

"I've watered him three times just today," Rocket explained worriedly, moving the pebbles from Groot's pot. "And look, he's still dried out."

Groot was a fairly self-sustaining house plant; he grew leaves for himself to eat and didn't need fertilizing. As long as somebody remembered to water him every day, he was generally okay. But this wasn't good. He'd had enough water for half a week at least, and he was nearly turning to dust.

"I can't lose him again," Rocket was just about on the verge of tears. "He's the best friend I have."

Peter looked offended. "What are we, chop liver?" he asked. Drax, sitting on the other side of the table, was at a loss for words. He couldn't figure out what mutilated internal organs had to do with any of them.

Next to Drax, Gamora sighed. "As much as it pains me to say this, I think I know someone who would be able to help."

"Who?" Rocket asked. Groot made a pathetically weak but hopeful noise.

"Taneleer Tivan." she answered.

"The Collector? Didn't he want to _buy_ Groot from us?" Rocket glared at her, shielding the shivering little shoot from her. Groot dropped a single brown leaf and coughed up a cloud of dust.

"Like it or not, he knows what he's doing. He's collected things from all across the galaxy, and while they may not be happy, they're all in good condition. It's the best chance we've got."

"All right." sighed Rocket. "If you think he'll help."

* * *

"Ah, Gamora." Taneleer Tivan said in a tone of feigned delight. "Lovely to see you again. Unfortunately, since you were last here, I'm afraid I lost everything I have to trade."

"We're not here to trade anything," she replied, her voice harsh and businesslike. "We wanted to know if you can help us. Show him, Rocket."

Rocket obliged and held out the pot containing the trembling Groot, who now had a pile of dust around him.

"Is this that same Groot I offered to purchase before?" the Collector sneered. "What happened to him? He's not worth anything now."

"He's sick," Rocket growled. "Gamora said you could help."

"Did she?" he replied, shooting a venomous look at Thanos's daughter. "And what will you give me in return?"

"Anything you want—except Groot himself." Gamora answered.

"You fool, what would I want with him now that he's an imperfect specimen? And why is he so small?"

"There was an incident." she explained. "He's growing back."

"You should have given him to me when you had the chance. I should have known something would happen to him in your care—or lack thereof."

"Hey!" shouted Rocket. "Do you know how long Groot's been with me? Wasn't until we teamed up with these jackasses that he almost died."

"We are not beasts of burden!" Drax challenged the rodent, his massive hands clenching into fists.

"He didn't mean it, Drax." Peter explained trying to calm the short-tempered alien. He had noticed that when he stayed silent for too long, the other four would be at each other's throats in seconds.

"Hmm…" the Collector mused. "I might be willing to make you a deal. Let me have a look at him." He took the plant from Rocket and carried it over to his examining table, Rocket following close behind with one paw on his gun. With a knife, the Collector mercilessly cut out part of Groot's fragile trunk and examined it under his microscope-like glasses. Groot screamed and held a scrawny hand to the injured spot.

"Aphids," Tivan concluded. "They're draining his sap dry. Eating him from the inside out. He'll be dead soon."—the Guardians could almost see him grinning with sick delight at their ineptitude—"There is one thing that might save him. But it'll cost you."

"Name it," Gamora ordered.

"A certain essence of a Terran plant—probably a distant cousin to this little fellow. It'll drive the insects right out. But, as I said, it will cost you."

"What's your price?"

"800,000 units." answered Tivan coolly.

"Done," she said.

"_800,000 units?!"_ Peter mouthed to Drax. "_Where are we going to get that kind of money?"_

"Oh, don't you worry, Mr. Quill." the Collector smirked. "I'll have to see where I can find some first. In the meantime, you're in spitting distance of a casino. Figure it out." With that, he turned on his heel, shoving Groot back into Rocket's hands.

"I am Groot," he said weakly, coughing and enveloping himself in a cloud of dust.

"Don't worry, buddy. We're not giving up." his best friend tried to comfort him.

"I a…" Groot broke off into a coughing fit. When it was over, the pile of dust around him was almost half his height and Rocket could see through the place where the Collector had cut him that he was almost completely hollow inside.

"Oh, no…" Rocket's voice hitched. "No…"

Drax crouched down to take Groot from him, and Rocket ran out into the mayhem of Knowhere, Peter on his heels. Groot, visibly distressed at his best friend's departure just when he needed him most, began to whimper.

"Calm down, little tree." Drax tried to soothe him. "We'll get you well again." Groot only coughed in reply.

* * *

"Rocket, what's gotten into you?" asked Peter, following the raccoon into the busy walkway.

"The goddamn Collector isn't going to help him," he sniffed. "He's going to die, and this time there's no _way _I could bring him back! He's turning to sawdust! There'll be nothing left of him!"

Just then, Gamora hurried out, trying her best to look inconspicuous and followed closely by Drax and Groot, who now had bits of bark flying off of him with every movement.

"Let's go," she said, grabbing Peter by the arm and rushing towards the ship. Rocket hopped on his back as they broke into a run.

"What, did you _steal_ it?" Peter asked as she closed the door and pushed him into the cockpit.

"In a manner of speaking…yes." she said, opening her hand and revealing a vial of yellow liquid. "He waved it right in front of my face and put it back in his pocket. Idiot."

"Thought he said he didn't have any," scoffed Rocket.

"And you believed him?" she raised a skeptical eyebrow and handed him the vial. He and Drax retreated downstairs with the sick baby plant in tow, hoping it wasn't already too late.

* * *

"Come on, Groot. One more drop. Please." begged Rocket. Too weak to move, the half-dead Groot was having his head tilted back by Drax as Rocket dripped the serum into his mouth with an eyedropper. It was taking a devastating yet effective toll on him, as every few seconds he coughed up tiny, immobile insects.

"I am Groot!" he protested as another wave of parasites cascaded onto the table. Rocket corked the vial and let him curl his tiny hands around his fingers. He was shaking so much that his little hollow stem was beginning to crack. If this didn't stop soon, he'd be split in half.

"Try to stay still," Rocket ordered as he patted the little sprout on the head. They were in for a long night.

The next morning, Groot was propped up in his pot and tied to a stick. He seemed to be doing a little better; he was already starting to regrow missing spots. Rocket and Drax were passed out on either side of the table.

"How are ya?" asked Peter as he was passing by on his way to the cockpit.

"I am Groot," he informed him with a feeble smile.

"Well, glad to see you're better."

"Quill…" Drax mumbled groggily, lifting his head up. "How far away are we?"

"We're almost back to Xandar," he said. "Gamora's been flying at full speed all night. I'm just going up to take over."

"Will you thank her?" Drax asked. "Without her help, Groot would now be dead. It would have devastated Rocket."

"You can thank her yourself when she comes down to rest."

Drax nodded solemnly, glancing at Rocket, who had fallen asleep with his arms wrapped around Groot's pot. In the minute or so of their conversation, Groot had fallen asleep too, still clasping Rocket's paw in his hands.

* * *

**As always, review and PM me with any ideas. I'll get around to writing them when I can. **


	5. The Birds and the Bees

**I'll be honest, I forgot about this story. Until it started getting a lot of follows. So I decided I should probably update it sooner or later. This idea was submitted to me by the lovely EverFarAway. Sorry it took me so long to write. Hope you like what I did with your idea!**

* * *

The _Milano_ had docked on an unfamiliar planet which the Guardians (mostly at Rocket's insistence) were eager to explore. As usual, Groot had been left behind, though he was a bit bigger now. But only a little. He had a long way to go before he was his old self again.

Looking out the window, he saw that this planet had a similar atmosphere to Knowhere. It was rough, and loud, and raucous. In general, it was a place he was glad he didn't have to be. He remembered his brief time on Knowhere, pulling Drax out of a vat of thick yellow fluid and draining his lungs, only to have Rocket come back and curse out their companion, having absolutely no sympathy for the man's murdered family. Groot only hoped he'd never have to do something like that again. He couldn't believe he'd once been that tall or that strong, or that he ever would be again.

He was lost in thought when he heard someone board the ship. Were his companions back? Had someone else gotten in? This was the worst part of being so small. He couldn't protect the ship or defend himself if someone attacked. He felt so useless stuck in one place, unable to take care of himself and having to be almost entirely dependent on the others in order not to die. One time, Peter had stuffed him in a closet…for two days. That had not been fun.

Someone was definitely aboard the ship. And they were giggling.

"You're gonna love this place," Peter's voice assured his giddy mystery companion. It was a woman, but definitely not Gamora. Gamora didn't giggle. "Big comfy bed, lots of space…of course, the others are gone, so it's just us."

"Oh, I'm sure I will," replied the woman. "Love this place, I mean."

Groot saw them both as they made their way downstairs to the sleeping quarters. Quill was with a strange yellow-skinned woman he'd never seen before. Who was she? Did they know each other? Why was she here? They walked right past him without even noticing and Quill opened the door to his room. Why were they going in there? Was he going to let her sleep in his bed?

There were some rustling noises, and then some giggling from the woman and some strange sounds from Peter and then…squeaking. What were they _doing_? The woman moaned, and then she screamed. That was enough for Groot to worry. Was Peter hurting her? He was usually a kind person; he and Groot himself were the gentlest of the Guardians.

Not wanting an innocent person to be hurt at his friend's hands—though he didn't know what he could do about it—he leaned forward, trying to see through the slightly cracked-open door. In doing so, the roots attached to his newly-formed feet broke and he toppled out of his pot onto the table with a thud.

"What was that?" came a timid voice, so unlike the happy tone he had heard minutes before.

"Probably just Groot," explained Peter.

"I thought you said we were alone."

"Groot is our…houseplant. Don't worry about him. He's dumb as a rock. Doesn't say anything more than 'I am Groot.'"

Groot was certainly _not_ dumb as a rock. He said a great many things, as much as the others did, in fact. But they didn't understand his language (except for Rocket, somehow), and so everything he said, they heard as 'I am Groot.' Was that really what Peter thought of him? He had thought they were friends.

Nevertheless, he had to make sure Quill's 'guest' was okay. He hopped from the table to a chair, wincing at the pain in his new feet, and then down to the floor, tumbling a little before righting himself and making his way quietly to the crack in the doorway that was just big enough for him to fit through.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next. If trees could blush, he certainly would have.

* * *

Try as he might, Groot couldn't get back onto the table. His legs were still weak, and he had fallen flat on the floor in his effort. His legs ached; he shouldn't have gotten out of his pot. He tried to sit up one more time, but only fell flat on his face again. Finally giving up, frustrated and in pain beyond measure, he flopped down on the floor and wailed.

The door slid open, and Peter stepped out in just his boxers and t-shirt, his strange companion on his heels, pulling on her clothes.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I am Groot," Groot explained to the floor, his face still flat against it.

"So this is your houseplant?" asked the woman.

"Yeah," Peter sighed, picking Groot up gently and placing him back in his pot, packing the dirt around him. "He's usually about ten feet tall, but he's growing back at the moment."

"Aww, he's adorable." she cooed, looking over his shoulder at the little sprout.

"I am Groot?" _Did he hurt you?_

Peter and his companion looked at each other in confusion, and then in the next moment he shrugged and turned around to retrieve his pants.

"I think they'll be back soon." He said awkwardly, scratching his neck. "We should go."

And then, just as quickly as they had come, they were gone, leaving Groot more than a little confused.

* * *

"What d'you mean, Quill has a _branch_?" Rocket demanded of the quivering Groot when the group had returned. "And he…what the _hell_?! Hey, Quill!"

"Jeez, Rocket, what is it?" Peter asked, coming down from the cockpit.

"What the hell were you doing while we…." Rocket began, and then it dawned on him. "So that's where you went! You came back here with some broad while we were out?"

"And so what if I did?"

"Groot _saw _you, you idiot!" the raccoon fumed. "Guess what I have to explain to him now?"

"I'm guessing by just how pissed you are that trees have no concept of sex, do they?" Peter asked.

"They _pollinate,_ you moron! It's not like Groot has a…" Rocket began, but stopped when he noticed his companion staring at him in amusement. "Peter?"

Quill erupted in laughter. "Of all the times you had to call me by my first name, and it had to be now." His face was purple and he was in tears, fighting his guffaws in order to breathe. "Y'know what, I'll explain it to him. Don't worry. You've earned your 'get out of jail free' card with that one."

"What the hell is a get out of jail free card?" Rocket asked. Peter didn't answer. Still cackling, he went over and sat down at the table where Groot was looking utterly bewildered. Rocket turned to go below deck, but not before he heard Quill launching into the age-old spiel:

"See, Groot, when a man and a woman love each other very much…"

Rocket wouldn't bother to tell him that, in Quill's case, love had nothing to do with it.

* * *

**Ah, euphemisms. Aren't they fun?**

**Reviews, s'il vous plait? **


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